When I initially considered having a client niche in the business of professional coaching, I first thought of “immigrants,” for I felt that I could very well relate to the needs of others like myself. I have lived in various countries whose cultures have greatly differed from one another, I have experienced adaptation processes in new cultures and academic or professional environments, and I have also felt the intrinsic need to build my life´s path in a country other than Colombia or Japan. The idea of coaching immigrants was heading in the right direction, but it still felt very generic, as if I were going to specialize in men or in thirty-one-year olds for the mere reason of being a thirty-one-year old male myself. I wanted more clarity and preciseness.

In an effort to find more specific targets to coach, I thought of several other terms related to the word “immigrant” to help me carry out a brainstorming exercise. Words such as, “migrant,” “emigrant,” or “expatriate” came to mind, but somehow they felt elusive, as if they did not want to be identified or pinned down for future reference. It was very interesting, though, to find different interpretations of the same terms, leading me to conclude how these are words heavily charged with sociopolitical connotations. When I think of “expatriates,” the thought of a male or female executive comes to mind. This person lives abroad for 2-5 years after accepting an offer to work overseas; a contract that often comes with considerable financial support for housing, children’s education, health insurance, moving expenses, and generous bonuses. Multinationals’ mid- and high-rank employees and diplomats are the first jobs that fall under this category. In fact, many of the search results that populate the Internet after googling “expats” are dedicated to communities whose profile fit the abovementioned description.

Nonetheless, in an opinion article by a former Moroccan diplomat in Spain, I read about the distinction between an “expatriate” and an “immigrant.” He felt that both terms were associated to the socioeconomic status of migrants. If a person were socially and economically stable or successful, he or she was considered an expatriate. Expatriates, most of them from wealthy Western societies, moved overseas temporarily not for survival, but rather for a richer professional and personal experience. According to the writer, these people enjoyed being part of a privileged social and economic network both in their countries of origin and host countries. On the contrary, if this person were socially or economically vulnerable, and hence moved to another country out of necessity, he or she became an immigrant with an open return ticket. These groups of people came from very weak or inexistent socioeconomic networks that forced them to migrate, often illegally, to countries where life standards were considered to be better. The writer denounced such differences as well as the fact that the term “expatriate” had been granted an elitist connotation.

Yet another interpretation to this term came from someone I met during a business lunch. When we spoke afterwards, he manifested his interest in my work because he had understood I specialized in coaching refugees and individuals who sought asylum in other countries. For him, the term “expatriate” referred to someone who had been divested of his or her country of origin; people who were denied the right to live in their own countries. Once again, I encountered a geopolitical interpretation of the term, and I began to sense that maybe it was not the ideal word to market myself.

If “emigrant” refers to anyone who leaves his or her own country or region to live elsewhere, “immigrant” refers to anyone who enters a different nation or region other than his or her own for an indefinite time period, and “expatriate” refers to anyone who lives abroad for a limited time within a strong socioeconomic network, who do I want as my target? During the same conversation I had with the person I met at the business lunch, I casually mentioned the term “global nomad,” and it caught his attention. His reaction left me thinking about it for a while. A global nomad (or third culture kid) is really a descriptive word for individuals who have spent a significant amount of their developmental years in countries different from their parents’. It is actually a very specific term, but the literal sense of a “global nomad” seems in accord to the social globalization that we are experiencing. In an era where communication and mobility are facilitated and even encouraged, more and more people become nomads in search of economic, social, professional, personal, or cultural enrichment opportunities that transcend geographic boundaries.

Thus, in the broadest sense of the word, the term “global nomad” could include emigrants, immigrants, expatriates, and globe trotters alike. The more I think about it, the better it sounds. I have not yet decided whether I am going to market my coaching services through this concept, but I have a good feeling about it.

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3 thoughts on “Global Nomad :: Nómada Global”

As an expat I’m not too sure I could identify with “Global Nomad”. First of all, the term “global” indicates far more than having for a home a second or third country. Perhaps if I had really lived in more than three countries I would identify with the term “global” more. Secondly, while living in Spain I have attempted to integrate into the local culture, not be a globetrotter standing out among the locals. As far as the term “nomad” goes, it carries with it the sense of wandering, of not having a true fixed home. This may happen if one is constantly changing countries or spends very little time in different places, but for an expat who has been here for nearly 11 years, I don’t feel like I’ve been wandering at all. Quite the contrary. Perhaps the term “Assimilated Foreigner” might be better to describe me!

I see your point, but let me be the devil’s advocate here: if we look at the terms literally, then an “expatriate” would entail someone who USED to have a nation of his or her own, but not anymore, just like we have ex-partners or ex-colleagues. I have referred to the term “global nomad” as an all-inclusive word, but I am sure that some of you will identify more with “expats” and some others will do so with “immigrants.” Besides seeing yourself as an expat or an assimilated foreigner, do you consider yourself an immigrant, as well? Why or why not? It would be interesting to know your reply to these questions.